


how did it ever come to this (i should have never come to this)

by WhenIWasAYoungBoy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Apathy, Body Dysphoria, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Gen, Implied/Reference Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, POV Second Person, implied/referenced eating disorder, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenIWasAYoungBoy/pseuds/WhenIWasAYoungBoy
Summary: you wake up some days and don’t know where you are. if you’re in space or the barracks or your old bedroom or one of the countless, near-indistinguishable hospital rooms. and it scares you, you think. the way you can feel yourself slipping away. but you quash your fear, push it down downdownand throw yourself into your work. into fighting and hacking and coding, anything to stay awake, anything to keep your hands busy, to keep your nails from sinking into your palms as everything just gets too much.





	how did it ever come to this (i should have never come to this)

you look in the mirror and you don’t know who you are. 

 

you have so many names and faces and lives that you’ve lost track of which one you’re currently living.

 

sometimes you think you don’t want to know. 

 

you wake up some days and don’t know where you are. if you’re in space or the barracks or your old bedroom or one of the countless, near-indistinguishable hospital rooms. and it scares you, you think. the way you can feel yourself slipping away. but you quash your fear, push it down down  _ down _ and throw yourself into your work. into fighting and hacking and coding, anything to stay awake, anything to keep your hands busy, to keep your nails from sinking into your palms as everything just gets too much. 

 

and you try not to notice the looks sent your way as your clothes begin to hang off of you more than before, your paladin armour constantly shrinking. and the concern in their eyes reminds you of your mother staring at you with tears in her eyes as she begged you to stop, to stop pushing yourself further and further to the edge.

 

the trays of food outside your room pile up and you have to try your best to ignore hunk’s constant attempts to get you into the kitchen. 

 

and shiro starts trying to get you to sit out of training as even running laps has you gasping desperately for breath and you can barely manage a single sit-up before your vision goes blurry. you avoid the pitying eyes tracking your movements as you walk out yet again, a parting message telling you to check up in the infirmary with coran barely registering as you try to ignore lance’s quiet, concerned whispers. and he reminds you of your brother. of matt. and that’s what you choose to focus on. his face, his eyes, his smile,  _ him _ . because he’s the reason you’re doing this - the reason you’re even here. and you can feel yourself burning out but you try to ignore it and deep down you know this is making you more of a burden but if you don’t work, if you take a break to eat or sleep or  _ breathe _ you’ll start thinking and then you won't be able to stop. and you can’t can’t  _ can’t _ think because there’s a small part of you that wants to know what you’ll do if you never find your family - if they’re lost in space forever. fighting or fleeing or dead. 

 

and the others try to start conversations with you, finding excuses to bump into you in corridors or to swing by your room - their concern evident in their voices, in their eyes. and you have to quash the guilt that comes as you brush them off again and again, letting it curdle in your gut as you throw yourself deeper into your work. 

 

and you barely sleep now and you don’t remember the last time you ate or even what day it is and you’re always suited up now, always ready to fight. and you try to ignore how none of your clothes fit you anymore and how even keith is making quiet comments about your hair and your face and how long you spend training. 

 

and you can’t meet your reflection’s eyes anymore, instead you trace the curve of their jaw, the sharp edge of their cheekbones and you remember doing the same thing over and over again. but then your hair was long and there was a boy who looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, even as your cheeks hollowed out and your eyes went sunken in your skull. 

 

but you grew apart (who are you kidding - you pushed him away. you push  _ everyone _ away) and then you remember doing this again at home, the door locked and the scale flashing bright red numbers at you as your mother cried in her room and your brother sat outside the bathroom door.

 

but you can’t stop. you tell yourself that this is what you need to do, what has to be done to save your family. 

 

and  _ god  _ the others keep throwing that word around, using it to try and get you to talk to them and it’s sweet and they mean well but you push them aside anyway and you know it’s been months and you’ve barely spoken and you hardly leave your room, hunched over your laptop scanning and hacking and searching and when you’re not there you’re in the hanger upgrading green and pushing aside her gentle, concerned presence in the back of your head. 

 

and you’re sleeping less because it’s getting harder and harder for you to get up and your vision is constantly tinged with black now and waving aside the others’ concern is getting so so tiring. 

 

and you think you’ve heard allura talking about a new green paladin but you’re not even sure what’s real anymore and even so, you’re so tired and so busy that the anger and the guilt and the bitterness that should come with hearing that statement isn’t there and instead you work harder and harder and deep down you know you’re more than half-dead at this point but you can’t stop and you always have been one to give one hundred percent to everything you do. 

 

you always have had a tendency towards perfectionism.

 

and you remember it being constantly brought up and analysed and you remember looking in the mirror one day after your mother started crying when she saw you. and one night she had sobbed to your father that you were disappearing right in front of her and you remember just feeling numb over it. and her concern was always so much louder compared to matt, with his healthy snacks and quiet motivation and his constant willingness to take you on midnight drives and early morning runs. 

 

and it’s all had it benefits - you suppose. after all, your chest is so, so flat that no one even began to question pidge gunderson. and stunting your growth with a cocktail of malnutrition and cigarettes has helped with fudging your age and hiding from iverson.

 

and you remember when you first started developing, how part of you was so so proud but most of you just wanted to claw the softness off of your body, make yourself look right. make it so you could look in the mirror and see _ you _ instead of this girl with her too bright smiles and her dresses that highlight her curves and her hair that scratches at her skin. 

 

and now, as you stare into the mirror, you suppose you’ve got what you wanted. you stare into their eyes and you can feel nothing but emptiness. and you know you should cry at what you’ve become - at what you’ve made yourself - but instead you just stare into your own eyes blankly.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://wickerss-s.tumblr.com/)   
>  [twitter](http://twitter.com/wickerss_/)   
>  [instagram](http://instagram.com/wickerss_/)


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